Just Like the Sunny Days That We Ignore
by JannP
Summary: They make a folder and label it with more initials and then hopefully they never look at it again. But it's there just in case. It's like a what if folder—and the what if is really 'what if I don't come back.' Furt oneshot post s3 with a small dose of Finchel.


**A/N: **Wow. I finished something and got it posted. And I most sincerely hope it doesn't suck. It sort of landed on the page out of nowhere so let me know. Thanks to the best group of girls ever for their support. They know who they are. Inspired by **4 am **by **Our Lady Peace.**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own. Don't sue me. It's totally not worth your time and I'm not even just saying that.

* * *

**Just Like the Sunny Days That We Ignore**

The really sucky thing about leaving last is that, even if he pulled away pretty quick, it's like now there's just all this time to think. He doesn't really like thinking. He doesn't really like some of the places his mind wanders to when things get too quiet and iTunes gets too depressing.

Okay, so he's not the last person to leave 'cause Kurt doesn't have solid plans but still. Kurt is going somewhere, even if Kurt himself doesn't know that yet. It's just obvious.

So the other really sucky thing is that he doesn't just think this stuff randomly. After he finished his enlistment and got put into DEP—and no, he doesn't remember what the acronym means exactly, but… whatever, there are a lot of acronyms and as long as he doesn't start mixing them up he doesn't care too much—he had to start going to these meetings. Just like every few weeks or once a month and they're right in Lima so it's no big deal. Their cookies suck and the coffee is worse, but…oh well. Food doesn't really taste anymore anyway so seriously, he does not care.

See, his mind? It wanders.

There was a DEP meeting that talked about getting things "in order." He was classed into the military police with his test scores and everything, and so when the recruiter doing the talking mentioned to the handful of guys there that it's a common thing even cops and firefighters do, he listened even more. Because cops equal police and that now equals him. Or it will. They make a folder and label it with more initials and then hopefully they never look at it again. But it's there just in case. It's like a what if folder—and the what if is really 'what if I don't come back.'

The guy mentioned statistics that say, pretty clearly, chances are he'll be coming back. And when he says coming back, he means like he'll finish his contract and either decide this is a career or not and he'll finish out the entire eight years and be just fine. It's a small percentage that don't. It's an even smaller percentage that end up like his dad. He's told Rachel, like, thousands of times that she's one in a million and now that he's thinking all these hard things… well, he's hoping he isn't that one in a million. Or whatever the exact number was that was a little bigger than that. But if he is, he's now thinking it'll be important to have a 'what if' folder. It'll calm him down, make him worry less about himself, if he puts that in order. It's one thing he can take control of, 'cause pretty obviously he can't control anything else about himself or his life in this world that's going totally nuts.

If you would've told him five years ago that he'd have a ring on Rachel Berry's finger and her offering to _wait _to move to New York so she could be with him, well…he would've asked if you were high. Then again, five years ago, he would've been all "who's Rachel Berry?" because she didn't even go to school with him then. Basically all he learned from high school is that the right person or the right circumstance can rock your world, change your life, and move you forward. Sometimes it's in the best way possible, like finding the person you will always, always love. Sometimes it's in a really good way, like ending up with a brother you never knew you needed 'til he was there. Sometimes it's in a really not great way at all, like learning your hero was just a dude with problems and your mom is strong but she's a little bit of a liar.

The really sucky thing about living in the world is when you get completely blindsided by the things you don't see coming. Even if you pick yourself up and dust yourself off, it still sucks. There's no way he can see far enough ahead to know how this stuff is gonna turn out. Just because he doesn't believe the people who think he's nuts or he's going to die doesn't mean he thinks he _won't_ either. He thinks he's going into this eyes wide open. He thinks he doesn't know what's going to happen; there's a checklist in his head but even that is a guideline and it's got some wild hope in it. It's not like he really _knows_. And also, some of the stuff on there is garbage but he's putting it on there anyway. See? Hope.

Yeah, like he hopes John Fogerty will sort of pull his head out of his ass and make up with the rest of the old band, but that's kind of low on the list of things that are really important to him, okay?

But he knows what he hopes will happen, and he hopes it goes like this: he hopes he figures out what the hell he's supposed to do with himself. He hopes he figures out why the situation around his dad bugs him so much, why it doesn't sit right, and what's wrong there. Maybe it's what's wrong with him? He doesn't really know for sure. He hopes he figures out why he thinks he belongs in the Army instead of in New York. Less specifically, he hopes he can find his way; his way to be comfortable being himself, his way to live a life he can't even imagine when he tries, and just, like his _way_, in general. Maybe he can find his way back to her. But if he can't…if something else happens, there are some things he actually needs her to know.

He's halfway through the letter and it's like four in the morning and he doesn't even care. He also doesn't know what he's going to do with the damn thing. Is this where hope comes in again? He hopes they'll find it? Like… no way is Rachel gonna go through his room if he dies in a sandtrap. His mom probably won't either. He's gonna have to do something more certain than hope for something like that. And it sucks that the most trustworthy person in his life who could do it is Kurt. The reason that sucks it's 'cause there's no letter for Kurt. So then of course he has to write one of those, too. And then he realizes that, since the recruiter giving the talk about the 'what if' stuff made him write one to his mom, he should write one to Burt too. That one ends up being really, really short and just says the same basic 'thanks' over and over again, but at least he writes it. Then if he's got one thanking Burt for stepping in as a dad, maybe he should write one for Mr. Schue since he did the same basic thing and Finn is probably bailing on being the guy's best man for all this.

Yeah, in the end he doesn't have a 'what if' _letter_ so much as he has, like, a _packet_. And he has no idea what to write on that envelope, so he leaves it the plain gold color with no words and no labels and figures Kurt will know. It isn't the sort of thing someone forgets.

It's like eleven o'clock the next morning and he's fucking tired by the time he knocks on his brother's bedroom door. Knocking is always a good policy, no matter how tired you are or how urgent you think your message is. There are things he hopes are true, things he wants to be true, and things that actually are true. They're all blurry in his head right now, but he still knows that one's true. Knock and wait. Good idea.

"You look terrible," Kurt blurts out as soon as he opens the door. He doesn't apologize and Finn doesn't need him to. It's probably true anyway.

"I need you to do something for me. Well, to maybe do something. Um, please. Can I come in for a minute?"

"Sure," Kurt says. He swings the door open a little more. "Hold on." He goes over and turns down the volume on music he was listening to, folds a magazine closed, and sits on his bed. "What's going on?"

Finn shakes his head. "It's really not a big deal." He sits down next to Kurt on the bed and that's about when he realizes how tired he actually is. He hands over the manila envelope with a sigh.

"Do I open this?" Kurt asks, toying with the flap. "It's kind of thick. This isn't some sort of a contract is it?"

"No," Finn answers and tips his head. He finds his basketball shorts pretty interesting. "It's more of a just in case."

Kurt's voice is low and steady. "Just in case what, Finn?"

He swallows. "Umm… basically in case I don't come home. Not even from basic, just in general. I don't know what's going to happen and that's…just yeah."

Kurt sort of jumps up off the bed. "Is this your _will_?"

Finn shakes his head again. "No, I made one of those when I enlisted and the Army has it. This is…there are just letters in there. There's one for Rachel, one for you, Burt, Mr. Schue…um… Puck, Sam, Quinn, Rory, Blaine, and Santana."

"That's a rather interesting collection of people," Kurt comments quietly after a minute. "Your mother?"

Finn shakes his head. "No. The Army already has that one too."

"You do realize this is a really, really terrible responsibility, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm sorry for that part, just…I know you'll get it done if it needs to get done. It's kind of important to me, you know? I can't really explain it."

Kurt just nods. "Is there anything you can explain about this?" His voice is small and his fingers are still playing with the flap a little. "I'm still not sure I understand why your plans have changed so completely."

Finn blows out a long, shaky breath. "Yeah…" He looks around Kurt's room slowly, his eyes sweeping over every vaguely familiar object. He licks his lips and wipes his hands on his shorts. "You know how it was when we didn't…" he shakes his head a little like a habit and then just stops. Kurt knows so it's not like he has to say it. "Well I kind of already felt like things weren't fitting together quite right, I guess. That all started when I found out my petition to change my dad's discharge status was denied. It was like everything else fit together—this… just this whole _life_ I would've had there with you and Rachel. Going to Pace, being married, the three of us in an apartment…" he looks up, his eyes focused directly on Kurt, and his voice low and steady as he says the last part. "The picture was nice, but it was wrong. It was like the colors were all wrong or something. Like it was just a dream and not really how it was supposed to go and the first time I really knew that part was when the rejection letter from Pace came. The, um, the picture of people in New York looks right as long as I'm not in it. I can see the two of you there so clearly as long as I take myself out of the picture. I'm what's wrong with it."

Kurt sits down next to him, the bed rocking a little bit with the movement and then settling into its new spot easily. "That isn't true."

Finn nods. "Did you know the night after I finished all the stuff in Gahanna…that was the first night I slept all the way through since graduation? It _is_ true and you know it," he says. "I'm just the only one of the three of us with guts enough to say any of it and that's okay. All I really need is for you to handle that part if…you know. If I can't." He swallows again. "Do you think you can do that for me?"

Kurt kind of wants to get a little snotty, wants to say something about Finn just hiding behind his father's mistakes instead of making his own. He doesn't, though, because the futility of it is just there and real. Instead of saying whatever he wants, he just nods. "I can. I really hope I don't have to, though."

"You probably won't, but thanks just in case," Finn replies as he stands. He squeezes Kurt's shoulder. "I'm gonna go get some sleep. See you later?"

"Yeah, see you."

* * *

Kurt makes it all the way to seeing Finn on the bus at the post in Lima, headed to boot camp with his hair cut and the standard issue bag slung over his shoulder, and it really is weird how when Rachel had left a few weeks previous, her shoulders were shaking and she had tears on her cheeks; the reason that's weird is because Finn is just the opposite. He's quiet, he's serious, and he's standing up straight and Kurt realizes how tall he actually is. Or how tall he can be.

Anyway, he makes it all the way through that and he's sitting in his room that's littered with boxes. He comes across the envelope and tries – really, he does—but eventually he pulls the flap open and tugs the stack of papers out. Each one is paper-clipped in a corner with an envelope attached on the back of the pile. He laughs and shakes his head when realizes that none of the letters are stamped or addressed. Finn is normally really good with details; there's a lump in his throat he can't swallow when he realizes for the first time Finn intended for him to deliver these _in person_. This is a cruel job and he should get something out of it.

So he looks through the stack, seeing the start on each one even though he's just looking for his own. He never said he would do this completely selflessly, after all.

_Dear Burt, Thank you for being like my dad. Or really, thank you for not being like my dad because you're around and you make my mom so happy…_

_Dear Mr. Schue, Thank you for being like my dad. Or really, thank you for not being like my dad because you taught me what it was like to have a dream instead of giving up…_

_Dear Santana, I have no idea what made me think I should write you a letter except you're one of the most important people from my growing up now…_

_Dear Rachel, I have to be just as direct as I can otherwise I'm not even gonna get through this and right now everything's fine but… if I don't make it I need you to know I've loved you all along. And no matter how things sort of ended or whatever, I'm sure I still loved you…_

(He stops reading that one because the lump in his throat is the size of an orange or larger and threatening to obstruct his airway.)

_Dear Kurt, Your letter is almost harder to write than anyone else's. Mostly because I'm sure that I might be like a week through BCT before you're reading it. I asked you to do this for me, but I totally left the envelope open for a reason. I didn't want you to cut yourself trying to, like, steam it open or something. Those paper cuts hurt like a bitch. Anyway._

He stops reading and seals the envelope up before he can rethink his actions. The thing is, even if the picture Finn saw in his head (and really, the idea is so convoluted he _barely_ understands) was off-center to him, Kurt knows it's not. It'll happen. He doesn't need to read Finn's final thoughts. He even manages to snort just a little to himself because… it isn't funny. That was not actually the last time his brother was thinking. It won't be.

* * *

It's six years later before he is digging through an old, dusty box in the back corner of his closet at home the last time it's really home, and he comes across a faded manila envelope. His heart beats a little faster, his throat feels a little thicker, and his fingers hold it like it's a precious gift. Before he can think too much, his lips curl into a soft smile and he stands up and exits the room, setting aside the mounds of disgusting, dusty items he still has to either (mostly) donate to Goodwill or take back home—the other one—with him.

He walks slowly into Finn's old room, the envelope in his hand and the smile on his face. He rolls his eyes a little when he sees the mess in front of him.

Because Finn is curled up on his bed and he's snoring.

Kurt drops the fairly heavy envelope right on Finn's stomach. Well, actually on his hand that's laying across his stomach. Finn's snore turns into a snort and his eyes jerk open.

"Wake up," Kurt says simply in his cheeriest voice. "Can we be finished with this now?"

Finn looks confused. Some things will never change. Instead of being irritated though, Kurt smiles.

Eventually, Finn clasps the envelope against his stomach and sits up. He runs a finger over the flap. "You sealed it," he admits, sounding surprised. He doesn't move to open it, though.

"Yeah. I didn't want to read any of that," he admits.

Finn sighs dramatically and turns the envelope over in his hands, laying his palm flat over the back of the envelope. "Two weeks."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It took me two weeks to write freaking wedding vows. I was trying to remember what was in this letter." The grin slides across his face, denting his cheeks a little like it always does. "You couldn't have given this to me sooner?"

"I thought the entire point of that envelope was it would happen over your dead body."

Finn just breathes out a tiny little "Yeah, it was," and then tosses it into a box that has a couple of magazines Kurt isn't going to look at too closely and an old X-Box controller that probably doesn't have anything to connect to anymore—the garbage. "Guess I don't really need that anymore, do I?"

"No. Well, unless you tell Rachel how you _really _feel about Hanukkah-themed Christmas tree décor again."

"I really don't mind decorating or celebrating both, but blue lights on a Christmas tree are _stupid_," he blurts out under his breath.

"Keep those letters, Finn."


End file.
